


Two Broken Pieces of a Whole

by tryslora



Series: Tumblr S4 Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Malia/Stiles, Background Relationships, Episode: s04e01 The Dark Moon, Gen, Manipulation, Manipulative Lydia, Tumblr Prompt, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia notices that Malia's official birthdate is the same as a certain someone else; a little digging turns up that Malia had a twin, and Lydia's determined to make sure they both know about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Broken Pieces of a Whole

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt from bdrixhaettc on tumblr: _Would this apply or is it for season 4 related TW prompt's only? Malia (+ the rest) finds out she has a twin - Jackson. Mainly I am looking for the revelation/discovery with the corresponding reactions. + maybe making plans to get him back?_
> 
> Hopefully this fits well enough! And I think that's very definitely a season 4 prompt. Exploring Malia's place in the pack is definitely s4. I went with Lydia's POV here because I figured she'd be in the middle of this, and I didn't think I was ready to try to get inside Malia's head quite yet.
> 
> As always, I do not own the world nor characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

“What?”

“A brother.” Lydia looks from the paperwork in her hands and back to Malia, who still stares at her, brow furrowed. “You have a brother.”

“No I don’t. I had a sister.” Malia’s lip lifts slightly, curling into an almost snarl, a very brief show of emotion before it flattens out and she says calmly, “I ate her.”

“Not entirely,” Lydia says, unfazed. “You were still more human than coyote then, even if that first change did do its best to destroy your mind. And your brother happens to be a wolf. He was human for a long time, then took a very circuitous route to his current werewolf self.” She gives Malia a look. “However, you both have blue eyes.”

Malia shrugs. “So?”

“You’ve both killed innocents.”

“I had to eat.” She examines the mauve nail polish that Lydia had carefully painted on her nails earlier—the purple a shade darker on Malia’s toes than on her hands. “You can’t expect me to feel bad about what I did while I was a coyote.” She smiles sharply. “I still am a coyote, remember?”

“You aren’t going to eat me.” Lydia knows Malia enjoys pushing her buttons, loves to inject a little tension into the room, and she refuses to rise to the bait. “Don’t you want to know about your brother?”

“No.” Malia picks up a bottle of nail polish and tilts it into the sunbeam; it catches the light, glimmering brightly. “Would you like me to paint your nails now? Is Kira coming?”

Lydia puts the papers back on her desk, setting them down neatly, tucked into one corner where they won’t be lost. “Kira will be here soon. We’ll talk about Jackson tomorrow, after she heads out again.”

Malia’s nostrils flare, and she tosses her hair back. “We need to teach Kira to dance. She’s almost hopeless.”

Just like that, the conversation is closed.

Still, it went somewhat better than Lydia expected. It’s not as if she’s even tried to tell Jackson yet.

#

“His name is Jackson?” Malia asks, finishing off her third helping of breakfast sausage.

“Who’s Jackson?” Kira pauses, a bite of pancake tilting precariously on the tines of her fork. “I thought you and Stiles had a thing, Malia?”

Malia has a soft smile at his name, and it makes Lydia’s stomach twist uncomfortably. “I like Stiles,” Malia admits. “He makes me feel comfortable. If I have to be human, I’m glad he’s here.”

“What’s going to happen to you and Stiles when you go back to being a coyote?” It’s Lydia’s turn to poke at things, prodding at what Malia has said. “You’re going to hurt him.”

“Oh, I’m not going to leave him. Don’t worry.” Malia reaches for another helping of bacon; she’s somehow managed to put away at least a half pound on her own and Lydia kind of hates her for her metabolism that allows it.

“How’s that going to work? Planning on being his pet dog?” If her tone turns sharp, it’s not her fault. Blame the early hour of the morning because _someone_ decided to get up just after dawn.

“I’m his,” Malia says with a small shrug. “However it works.”

“What does this have to do with Jackson?” Kira still has that same piece of pancake on her fork, and it really is delightfully awkward. Lydia can see what Scott sees in her; she’s so much like Stiles it only makes sense. If it weren’t for Allison…

No, she’s not going down that road. She can’t.

“Does Jackson make you sad?” Malia tilts her head, inhaling the air.

“Sometimes. He’s in England, but we should get in touch with him. I’m certain he’d like to meet you.” Lydia doesn’t look at Malia, doesn’t push this. If this is going to be done, it needs to be Malia’s idea, or else the whole pack will likely regret trying to force the coyote to do anything.

“He’s my brother,” Malia says to Kira, reaching over to nudge the fork towards her mouth, helping her eat. She gently takes the fork back down and spears another bite of pancakes, offering to feed it to Kira, who licks it delicately from the spoon.

Scott might have competition. Or else Malia has decided to mother Kira. Lydia honestly can’t tell if this is canine seduction or attempting to teach a pup to survive in the wild.

“Malia has a brother,” Lydia says plainly as the other two continue to pick food from each other’s plates, Malia feeding Kira the choicest bits. “My ex-boyfriend Jackson. It was the birthday that tipped me off, when we checked Malia’s records to confirm that she’s Peter’s daughter. Jackson was born on the same day, and a little digging showed that the story about his parents dying in a car crash is a cover up. Which makes sense; he really is a beautiful and manipulative bastard, just like his father.”

“Am I?” Malia looks up. “Just like my father,” she clarifies, when Lydia doesn’t immediately continue.

“Sometimes disturbingly so,” Lydia says dryly. “I’m surprised you haven’t spent more time bonding.”

“Stiles doesn’t like him,” Malia says, as if that is that.

“Stiles doesn’t like Jackson either.”

“Then neither do I.”

Kira pats Malia’s hand. “You can’t make every decision based on what Stiles likes and doesn’t like.”

“Why not?” Malia takes another piece of bacon and pushes it toward Kira’s mouth; Kira obediently opens up and accepts it.

Round two has been closed, Lydia thinks, but she made it further this time. She expects that Stiles will know soon enough and will offer his own opinions to add to the mix, which means she needs to take it to the other side next. 

They need each other, she thinks. More than they know.

#

“Lydia, whatever idea you have concocted, I’m not returning to Beacon Hills—”

“Malia Tate is your sister,” Lydia tells him, letting words drop like bombs. “And Peter Hale is your father.”

“Impossible.”

“Truth,” she counters. She recognizes the way his expression retreats, the way he closes himself off. She used to have a way inside those walls, but ever since he left for London he has cut her out the same way he cuts everything out to keep himself from being hurt. “You should meet her.”

“The coyote who killed her family?” His laugh is dry and rough. “I don’t think so, Lydia. My father’s made it clear that we’re staying in London—next probably stop is somewhere in Germany if we go anywhere. Until I’m eighteen, I don’t have money of my own.”

“Wait, you have an inheritance.” This is important and Lydia had forgotten entirely about it. “From your parents’ insurance.”

“Which is why my birth father is _not_ Peter Hale.” Jackson arches one eyebrow, and it just makes Lydia smile.

“Unless Talia Hale paid so that the hospital would be bound to separate you from your sister.” This is it, she’s positive of it. “She went through a lot of trouble to ensure that Peter never knew that he was a father.”

“Because he’s a psychopath?”

Lydia waves one hand. “True, but not an important part of this right now. This isn’t about Peter—this is about you and Malia, two blue-eyed were-creatures who happen to need a connection to _someone_ , likely because you are twins separated at birth. So you keep seeking that connection and killing yourself with walls when you can’t find it, and she’s decided to imprint on Stiles and Kira like a baby bird.”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me.” Jackson raises one hand, and she calls out, stopping him just before he touches the keyboard to sign out.

“Jackson, I’m trying to help.” Lydia spreads her hand. “It’s information. There is nothing that says you have to do anything about it.”

The door squeaks open behind her, someone stopping as they walk in. “Lydia?”

She smiles. After all, during her slumber party a few days ago they rearranged her entire bedroom, and made certain to put her desk in the perfect place so that anyone walking in would see _everything_ on her laptop screen if she’s sitting at her desk. She’s not stupid to work at her desk on anything she doesn’t want seen.

And right now, she wants to be seen.

_Jackson_ doesn’t have to do anything about it. _Malia_ doesn’t have to do anything about it.

But Lydia sees two broken pieces that need to fit back together in order to be whole, and she can’t resist fixing it. “Hello, Malia,” she says, and when she puts her hand in the air she is gratified to know that Malia remains where she is and Jackson does _not_ end the connection.

Instead they both stay absolutely still while Lydia pushes her chair back and gestures the other girl forward. “Sit,” Lydia orders, and Malia does. “Jackson, this is Malia. And Malia, this is Jackson. It would be far simpler if neither of you played the game of hunter and prey and instead tried to speak politely. Be aware that you are conversing homicidal lizard to wild coyote and give each other a chance.”

“I’m not a lizard.” Jackson growls, his eyes flashing brightly, and Malia reaches out to touch the screen.

“You’re right, his eyes are pretty.”

“They’re _blue_. I _killed_.”

Malia tilts her head, regarding him, and Lydia watches Jackson’s expression and guesses that Malia’s eyes flash as well. “You did what you had to do,” she says seriously. “I wouldn’t expect any less of my brother. You’re still here, aren’t you? That means you’re stronger than everyone else.”

Lydia steps backwards quickly, making it to the door before Jackson replies. She’s finished her part in this; she thinks the twins deserve a little privacy to talk and figure out who each other actually is. They may have been stuck with someone like Peter Hale as a sire, but she suspects that having each other to lean on might make up for it in the end. Only time will tell.

She’s done as much as she can; it’s up to them to fix things now.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
